Need You Now
by Miss Mila
Summary: Peter/Olivia fic Post-Jacksonville. It was written before the ep aired, so it's a bit AU. Written to the song "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Fringe characters, places, themes, etc. No copyright infringement intended. I don't own the lyrics to, and am not affiliated with Lady Antebellum or their song "Need You Now".

**Author's Note: **You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you I wrote this fic ages ago (actually, you probably would). Like, at the beginning of the year. Or whenever "Jacksonville" aired. This is Peter/ Liv all the way. Like I said, Post - Jacksonville. Peter already knows. I guess this would be considered AU because I didn't bother changing it to make it fit what really happens. It's hurt/comfort. Of course. Oh, and it has Fatherly!Broyles.

**Author's Note 2: **A few weeks ago Bryn and I decided to make this a challenge fic. "Need You Now" obviously being the theme. I thought, 'Oh, handy, I already have a fic written to this'. And then 'Crap, I need to post it, don't I?'. So, you should totally do the challenge.

* * *

Funny enough, the flickering stopped when he found out he was from the other world. That, or she managed to control it. Not like it mattered. She didn't see much of Peter these days, and that was the worst.

It was partly her fault, mostly his.

She should've told him before. She should've, but she didn't. Because there was that damn fear again.

And when he found out, there wasn't yelling. Much. They were both scared.

"You kept this from me?" Quiet, disappointed anger.

"I…I didn't- Walter made me promise…I'm sorry." Excuses, excuses.

"You should've told me, Livia."

Why couldn't he just yell at her? "Peter…I was scared, okay? I…I didn't want to lose you."

He smiled that ironic half-smile of his. It all made sense. Her crying. His comforting. Not that he minded. "I guess I always knew. Deep down."

She nodded.

He stood and kissed her cheek. "Goodbye, Olivia."

The air of finality scared her. It really did, possibly more than anything else. "Bye, Peter."

And she knew she wouldn't call or ask for him again. Because he didn't want to hear it. Not anymore. As it happened more and more these days, she was wrong.

* * *

"Agent Dun- Olivia." Broyles.

Olivia looked up from her place on the floor of her FBI office. She'd been alone in the dark room, knees pulled up to her chest. She didn't make a move to get up.

Broyles sighed and sat down next to her. "Olivia," he repeated gently.

She looked away from him. "I…" She trailed off. She what?

"This is about Peter." Wasn't it always?

She nodded, even though it wasn't a question.

"I heard."

She turned to Broyles with tears in her eyes. "He's mad at me. Really mad. I can tell."

And then Broyles put his arm around her in a very fatherly gesture. And she remembered him saying, "_These people…they're my family._"

She felt tears falling down her face. "It's not fair. John. Charlie. Peter…" She didn't have to finish the thought.

He handed her a handkerchief and she took it gratefully.

"Have you talked to him?"

She shook her head, no.

Broyles stood and held out a hand. She took it and stood.

"Go home. Talk to him."

* * *

She did what Broyles told her. Kind of.

Olivia did indeed go home, but not to Peter. To whiskey.

_Picture perfect memories_

_Scattered all around the floor_

She remembered the first time she met him, in Iraq. The first time she dragged him back to America to get reacquainted with a father he learned to love again. She remembered the bars and the cases. The laughs and friends she met. Not exactly picture perfect.

_Reaching for the phone 'cause_

_I can't fight it anymore. _

_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind. _

_For me it happens all the time. _

She cursed him and his good looks. Cursed him for always being in the back of her mind. Did he think of her like she did him? Really, Peter was one of the few friends she hand. And now maybe he wasn't hers to have.

_It's a quarter after one, _

_I'm all alone and I need you now. _

_Said I wouldn't call_

_But I lost all control and I need you now. _

_And I don't know how I can do without,_

_I just need you now. _

Her phone made its way to her hand. Her fingers itched to push the buttons that would allow her to hear his voice again. That is, _if _he picked up.

It was later than she thought. Maybe she shouldn't…

And then her finger slipped. Look at that.

"_Hello?" _He sounded wide awake.

"Peter."

"_Olivia." _No anger. No nothing.

She didn't know what to say.

"_Do you want me to come over?" _

She nodded, then remembered he couldn't see her. "Yes."

She could imagine him running a hand over his face. Sighing. _"I'll come." _

She nodded again, and he seemed to understand.

_Click. _

_Another shot of whiskey, _

_Can't stop looking at the door. _

_Wishing you'd come sweeping in_

_The way you did before. _

_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind._

_For me it happens all the time. _

The whiskey bottle was getting progressively emptier - and blurrier. Her eyes refused to leave the door, glued to it like it would flicker and disappear.

Her thoughts wandered to the times when Peter came dashing in, whether she wanted him to come or not. All the times in the tank, at the bars, after the cases. He was her damn knight in not-so-shining armor.

_It's a quarter after one,_

_I'm a little drunk,_

_And I need you now. _

_Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control,_

_And I need you now. _

_And I don't know how I can do without_

_I just need you now. _

_Yes, I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all._

She didn't realize how late it was until he came through the door. It was unlocked, silly her.

"Olivia."

She looked up at him, reached out and touched a finger to his arm. "You're solid."

And maybe it was the fatigue. Maybe it was the circumstances. Maybe just Peter, but he laughed aloud and this and she had to smile.

He sat next to her and raised an eyebrow at the whiskey bottle, now practically empty. He gently picked it up and held it between his hands.

"I'd offer you some. But there isn't any left."

"Was it full a few hours ago?"

It was a rhetorical question, and a go ahead to talk. That he would listen.

"I was wrong. To keep your secret from you, I was wrong. But I was scared, Peter." He looked up at his name. She continued, "What if you just went back? Disappeared? Left me here? Alone."

He sighed and ran his hand over his face, just as she imagined.

_It's a quarter after one, _

_I'm all alone and I need you now. _

_And I said I wouldn't call_

_But I'm a little drunk and I need you now. _

_And I don't know how I can do without,_

_I just need you now. _

_I just need you now. _

_Oh baby I need you now. _

"I needed you, Peter." Accusatory tone paired with forgiving eyes.

"I know." Weariness. Apologetic tone. "I'm sorry. It's just…you told me, and I- I freaked." He held up his hands and stared at them, flipping them over. "Can you really see me flickering?"

She shrugged. "Yes. If I want to. Now I have to concentrate. Because, when you were mad it went away."

"And now? Am I flickering now?"

She nodded. "Now you are." A tired tear fell down her face. "Don't leave, Peter. I know you don't belong, but don't leave."

He drew her to his chest. "I'm not. Not now. See? I'm solid. Perfectly solid."

She clung to him and closed her eyes, afraid he'd be gone when she opened them. "You and Broyles and Walter and Astrid…other than Rachel and Ella, you're the only family I have. I need you."

And he nodded. He knew that she was independent, and that saying those last three words bruised her pride, and maybe her ego. But it didn't matter; the feeling was mutual. Everything was mutual.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hmmm. Lengthier than I remembered. I like it, though. And I like the song, too. I recommend you listen to it. It's a bit slow and sad, perfect for this fic. Review?


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